Thursday, July 24, 2008

Anti-dentite

It's that time again, when I visit the dentist after two years and feel the need to talk about it on my blog. I have long hated going to the dentist. No, I've always hated going to the dentist. People who like the dentist are freaks and need to be punched in the face. They like the dentist? Yeah I'll send them to the dentist. Anyway, it's the worst place on Earth. I feel a little bad saying that because I actually like my dentist and his hygienist daughter, who cleans my teeth with rainbows and sunshine. But my dentist and I have always had a love/hate relationship.

He is the dentist i went to when I was small. I am too big of a wuss to find a new dentist near my home so I only go when I'm in utah. This satisfies me. My dentist is a good man who likes to give me pain. It is the very definition of our relationship. We know I am tough but I think I have sensitive teeth. It doesn't take much to make them cry. And a drill that sounds like Satan & that feasts on your tender tooth nerves ne'er makes a happy memory. And more than once has my dentist been surprised when I still expressed discomfort (or excruciating agony) after the 20th shot had been administered. This makes me believe that my teeth are special. Special in that they suck because I always get cavities and it always hurts to drill them. I am in disbelief when I hear people say it never hurts them. I'm pretty sure their dentists are actually drilling their teeth with cotton swabs and marshmallows. And hearing that it doesn't hurt other people makes me question my dentist and his abilities but you know, I think he's alright. I really think it's just me. And I've been going to him so long. If I'm going to be in hell every two years, I'd like it to be a familiar hell.

Along with the drilling, he likes to tease and taunt me while he works. This is particularly painful because I can't respond and it really kills me. He loves this. "Ohp, what's that? Sorry, don't talk. I have to work." @#$%! Next time I'm bringing a white board and marker. [vigorously writing]: "I....hate...you..." (yeah, that's the best comeback i have. I hate you! I am thinking there may be a bit of regression going on when i am in the dentist chair) He told me he just couldn't see me as a city girl and I told him it's because the only time he sees me is in my most vulnerable state. I told him that I'm actually rather tough. He said, "You'd have to be." And I said, "well yes you would, to come here." ZING! Hmm. Maybe I shouldn't zing my dentist when he carries my fragile life in his hands. But anyway, he also loves telling me jokes that make me and the dental assistant almost cry. Here is the latest:

A man's parents are in the hospital, having undergone major surgery. Finally, after many hours, the doctor enters to give the man a report on his parents. "Well," he says, "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that your parents are in a near-vegetative state. They are incontinent and you will need to change their diapers. They suffered major brain damage and they will be a huge burden to you and your family." "Oh no," says the man. "What's the good news?" The doc says, "the good news is that I'm just kiddin'. They didn't make it."


Now, I'm already in a weak state. Were this surgery and an actual life-threatening situation, this kind of thing would be enough to send someone downhill to the flat line, and fast. But since it's not, I just groan at the joke and try not to put claw marks into the arm rest. I like to complain. He tells me to stop whining. I tell him to stop hurting me. He tells me to floss. I tell him "touché" and after he's done drilling my 3 small cavities, I thank him for fitting me into his tight schedule and he gives me a hug and says he'll be working for 5 more years so he can take care of me until then. Thanks, Doc.

6 comments:

Lindsey and Ryan said...

Well, Jen, I am that freak who likes the dentist. I like the silky feeling of my tongue running across perfectly clean and smooth teeth. In my defense, Ryan says I only like the dentist since I have never had a cavity. If I had had a cavity, he claims I'd hate it... and probably as much as you. (I am a wuss everywhere else, so it is safe to assume!) Sorry for your pain.

Joel said...

I have had many, many cavities but still like the dentist. It's what he tells me that I don't always like. It's sort of the same feeling I have toward my bank. They're nice people, but they often have unpleasant things to tell you.
Maybe the reason dentists have the highest suicide rate of any profession is because everyone hates them even though they're just trying to help.

Jen said...

Or they are sadists. I honestly can't understand why you'd want to be a dentist. Mouths are GROSS. Maybe Rob can shine some light on this. Shed some light? whatever.. maybe he can shine a flashlight on this.

Rob said...

Well first off, I'm a little offended. Second, I also hate going to the dentist. It's never fun to get a shot, or be scolded by the hygenist for not flossing 3 times a day like she does (because they're OCD)

I have seen many many gross things in my short career. Which is why I chose to go into pediatric dentistry. Kids can go their entire lives without brushing and not have bad breath. Lots of holes in their teeth, but normal breath. But I still think it would be better than podiatry, or gynecology, or urology, or proctocology...what were those people thinking when the chose their careers?

Pediatric dentistry is by far the awesomest. Going to the dentist is much more enjoyable when you don't get shots, you get sleepy juice. Teeth aren't extracted, they're wiggled. There are no drills, only Mr. Whistle, and Mr. Bumby. I have a squirt gun, and Mr. Slurpee to clean up the mess. Plus you get a sticker or a toy every appointment. And I love my job!

P.S. The high suicide rate is a myth, they actually did a study on it!

The Richards said...

My orthodontist would always come over right after my braces had been tightened a ton and say, "So...How ARE you?!" really enthusiastically and I always wanted to say, "How do you THINK I am?!".

Once after three of my sisters and I had had braces, two had head gear, and we all had retainers we saw him pull up in a brand new Mercedes and my dad said, "I paid for that car." Such is life, right?

Jen said...

Why can't the dentist be like when I was small? I hated it but at least I got a toy. I would not be opposed to getting a toy, nor would I to calling it Mr. Whistle & Mr. Bumby. (<-- what in heaven's name is that?)

We used to get totally awesome t-shirts if we didn't have any cavities. In my later years I started demanding a t-shirt regardless of my cavities, saying it was the only way they could redeem themselves for the torture. And I knew where the closet was where they had the shirts. I sound like a really nice, fun dentist patient. I really think they love me.